Whispers of a Winter Morning

A gloomy morning,

With thick fog and dew,

Being so chilled with a hazy view,

Looking out the window, at the trees –

The long black branches, bare of any leaves,

Scrap of paper lie to the right of me.

Imagination took me far to a land unknown.

Where I begin to feel the cold ,

Howling, bellowing, beckoning sound of distress.

The seasons were waning fast,

Nights we’re growing cold at last.

September extinguished itself in a rush of howling wind and driving rain.

October is arriving with apricity; a bit sweet and salty.

November’s with hard frosts morning and night being cold as frozen iron.

December’s wintery breathe will cloud the pond

Flashback of days gone by

Turn my experience into a reflective one; blocking me from reality.

And sometimes, I don’t bother so I walk down the road.

A shivering and foggy winter morning

People enjoy warm bed, hot food and drinks and merriments

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter night

Thus, look so mystic and a divine feeling

I can’t deny my dislike towards cold temperatures,

So, I choose to walk with a big jacket and a wand.

Tucked in my pocket dreaming to see the spring

But I remind myself of how privileged I’m, to sit here,

Pouring my ink onto paper about the beautiful warm winter days.

© Waquil Aziz Bhuyan